Small But Opinionated

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Name: Molly

Age: Nine-and-a-half months (definitely not old enough to known better)

Breed: Jack Russell Terrierist

Specialist subjects: Chewing, shredding, general unruliness

 

Everyone should have at least one hobby. My owner has several, from what I can tell, including being late, swearing too much and avoiding housework. Dog walking is another of her pastimes – or, as I like to call it, open-air human-losing. So that’s our shared interest, our little something in common, but I have plenty of hobbies of my own. So many, in fact, that when you count hours spent sleeping or eating, I barely have enough hours in my day. Here are a few of my favourites.

  

Barking at the TV

Specifically, whenever I see any sort of dog, farm animal, newsreader, speeding vehicle, racehorses, men with beards or Piers Morgan. Particularly good fun during programmes the owner really wanted to watch.

  

Attacking my bed

By night, my bed is a source of comfort, a place for quiet reflection. By day, it transforms into some sort of deadly ninja warrior that must be captured and contained. I’ve tried most things – swinging it round by my teeth, climbing on top of it and attempting to squash it into submission… Somehow it continues to exist, but it’s only a matter of time before I destroy it once and for all.

  

Stealing anything that falls from above

If it lands on the floor, it’s mine. It’s the Jack Russell law of gravity after all – what goes up, must come straight down into my waiting jaws.

  

Grabbing socks

Whether they’re on someone’s feet at the time or not is pretty immaterial in the rules of this particular game.

  

Shredding toys

It’s so soft… It’s so squeaky…. It’s so going to be disembowelled any minute so my owner can spend the rest of the day picking up bits of fluff from the carpet.

  

Growling at the dog that lives in the fireplace

There’s a shiny black marble surround next to the fireplace in my house and at least once a day I like to go and investigate the dog that hangs out there. Every time I climb on the footstool and peer into the depths of the marble I see some short, opinionated but admittedly rather beautiful Jack Russell just sitting there, staring back at me, growling ferociously while simultaneously wagging its tail. Living in MY home, just lurking there. The sheer insolence

  

Slowly licking the sofa while wearing a contemplative expression

Yeah, my owner doesn't get that one either. But don't knock it until you've tried it.

  

Using dog toys as weapons

Wait until owner is snoozing on the sofa. Then let her know I'd quite like to play by whacking her repeatedly on the arm with nearest dog toy.
  

Bonding with visitors

Doesn’t matter if they like dogs or not — if they’re in my house, sitting on my sofa, I’m going to climb up and sit on their heads. Bonus point for getting a paw in their ear while doing so.

  

Playing hide and seek

Crawl commando style under the sofa. Wait there until the owners start to ask “Where’s the bloody dog gone now?” Sneak out while they’re not looking and adopt innocent expression. I win, yet again.

  

Shredding

Crisp packets, the post, important documents – whatever it is, I’m more than happy to tear it into tiny little pieces on your behalf. You’re welcome.

  

Running upstairs where I’m “allegedly” not allowed and generally causing havoc

Self-explanatory, really.

  

Chasing crows

One day, I’ll catch you, my little black feathered friends. One day.

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